


double entendres

by scifo



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fingerfucking, Orgasm Delay, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, When you're trying to get it on and your phone (Linkpearl) rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifo/pseuds/scifo
Summary: The Warrior of Light finds herself in something of a precarious position. Naturally, Nero is involved.Set amidst the events of Patch 3.5.
Relationships: Nero tol Scaeva & Warrior of Light, Nero tol Scaeva/Original Character(s), Nero tol Scaeva/Original Female Character(s), Nero tol Scaeva/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 32





	double entendres

**Author's Note:**

> Serafina is my Warrior of Light, if that wasn't already obvious! Naturally, I wrote this with her in mind. 
> 
> Yes, his is my first official post, and yes, I'm very nervous. But I found the Nero/WoL ship tag and knew I needed to contribute.

It had been lighthearted, at first. It had been naught more than play. A well-placed word, innuendo beneath the guise of innocence about as transparent as a bridal veil; a purposeful brush of fingertips against bare arm chalked up to carelessness; gazes held captive for just a fraction of a moment too long, the figurative cogs of the minds behind them turning rapidly, restlessly. Little things. Things that she had chosen not to read into very deeply, and for good reason, at that. She did not trust him, after all, - _could_ not trust him, really - and as such little to no weight had been given to (what she would refer to as) his "antics". A ruse, she would assure herself as he'd saunter off, seemingly victorious in the wake of a well-placed _slip_ of the tongue, something to disarm her, to get her to lower her guard so that he could make off with the completion of some grander scheme she hadn't quite pieced together. A ruse, and little more than that.

At some point though, they - or _she_ , really - had allowed those light flirtatious and salacious jests to go further. To hold more meaning than they had before, enough so that she'd taken them to heart. Otherwise, she doubts she would ever find herself here: Serafina Deveraux, Warrior of Light and Slayer of Eikons, sandwiched between the hard surface of a back wall somewhere deep in the Rising Stones' supply room and Nero Tol Scaeva, former Tribunus of the XIVth Legion. His lips upon her own are _hungry_ , as though devouring a feast he'd been made to wait a fortnight to taste; his hands meanwhile take to roaming her curves, the gentle slope of her breasts and hips, before deft fingers began to work at the silken fabrics that clothed her waist-down.

And it was _easy_ work, really.

Said wall she's pressed up to is hard and cold, moreso now that her skirts and sash have been altogether discarded, dropped to the floor with a simple flourish of the Garlean's wrist. The touch of icy stone to the small of her back is enough to send chills up and down her spine alone, truth be told, but the hand slipping beneath her smalls to tease her already-wet pussy amplifies those chills tenfold. A shuddering gasp escapes the Warrior's lips as two of Nero's fingers slip past her folds and delve into her with ease, and her hands reach out, grabbing for his forearms as a means keeping stable and upright.

 _Twelve preserve_. That he should make such a mess of her so easily - that he should take such joy in the act, too, if the smirk upon his lips and the devious _glint_ in his eye were a testament to anything … it's almost enough to cause shame. Embarrassment. And perhaps it would, if she didn't feel she needed this quite so terribly - If it didn't make her feel this _good_.

"Tell me, Warrior of Light," He speaks casually as his fingers pump their steady rhythm within her, in and out of her core, curling just-so against her walls to hit the spot that would make her writhe and rock her hips against his hand for more. "Is _this_ what you've wanted of me all this time? I might have simply agreed, you realize, had you elected to be more _forthcoming_."

"And give you the satisfaction of 'winning' at your own game? I … I think not." Between heavy breaths comes the retort, words tinged with the intoxication of pleasure as Nero continues to thrust into her, steady and deep, and in response the Garlean cannot help but to chuckle. It is a rumble that reverberates all through his body, so powerful Sera swears she can feel it in his heated kiss when his head dips once more to capture her lips. Or perhaps such ought simply be chalked up to the sudden change in pace, the way his fingers begin to thrust into her more fervently, quickening their movement while still hitting the sweet spot inside of her each and every time. Either way, it's enough to cause her grip on him to become vice, her hands snaking up his arms to his shoulders and clamping down upon them as she willed his body to lay taut against her own, the feeling of his own desire making itself known as the hard length of his cock presses against her bare midriff. She can't help herself, can't keep herself from moaning against his hungry mouth in both desperation and want. Each piston of his fingers drives her closer and closer to the edge, to the release she so craves. And the second she finds herself on the precipice of ecstasy, _just_ about to teeter over the edge -

There's a familiar chirping in her ear. A _ringing_. And everything comes to a startling halt.

"- M - My Linkpearl." The words come out choked, Sera still gasping for air as she and Nero part in both lips and body; his hand recedes from her wetness with a start, not unlike a man that'd unwittingly snapped his fingers in a rat-trap, and in any other situation Sera might have laughed at him for such a reaction. Such is, of course, the furthest thing from her mind at the moment; the fire he's set in the pit of her stomach makes certain of that much. She swallows hard, and starts again. "That's my Linkpearl. I have to -"

" _Well, go on, then_. Don't put it off on my account." Words laced with sarcasm and frustration, as if the downwards curl of the engineer's lips was not indication enough of his annoyance with the interruption. Serafina pointedly purses her own lips in response - a way of demanding his _patience_ without so much as speaking a word. And he must be receptive of the underlying meaning, hence the subtle change in expression upon sighting the look she gives him: something akin to impatient amusement dancing upon his lips as he attempts repose. There's a pause then, the static-charged air jittering between them in the wake of silent stillness - and then, with a toss of some unruly blue locks, she presses a single digit to the budlike device in her ear to accept the communication. All at once, the Linkpearl whirs to life, and reconnects her to that distant comrade which had reached out to begin with.

"Yes? - Yda? … Sorry, I was, _ah_ \- I was in the middle of something -"

But no sooner had the conversation began than her drifting gaze catches Nero's once more - only now, she finds it alight with a kind of desire she could only think to describe as _impish_. What space the shock of the call had put between them becomes scant as the former Tribunus again draws nearer to her. With the move comes confusion on the Scion's part, and as such, the brilliant crimson of Serafina's irises clash with the gray of Nero's own as each holds the other's gaze silently captive. For the Midlander, it was an attempt at ascertaining her company's next move, her fellow Scion's voice a continuous melody in her ear all the while; for the Garlean, on the other hand, it a challenge issued, another game to play and inevitably win, as he had all those prior. _You wouldn't,_ her eyes say, to which his own reply, _Watch me_.

"No … No, it's alright. What's happened? Is aught amiss?"

With the question came two answers. The first was supplied by Yda, reiterating for the Scion of Light her position, and her readiness to finish what had been started at the Cartineau Flats. The second, on the other hand, was Nero Tol Scaeva lowering himself to his knees before her, all heady gaze and lascivious smirk as greedy fingers hooked the soft fabric of her smalls, tugging them down her thighs with purpose. And if she hadn't a clue as to what exactly he had planned before, she certainly did _now_ , watching him from above (for once; damn the man for being so tall) with half-lidded eyes, her bared hips arching towards him with magnetic pull. For after all, it isn't an _intentional_ movement on her part so much as it is automatic: a gravitation towards his sneering mouth caused by the ache she still felt between her legs, the heat of a sweet release she had been denied moments before, and so desperately needed. Perhaps now more than ever.

She knows this is probably - no, definitely - a terrible idea; make no mistake about that. In the same vein, she knows how quickly this could take a turn for the _(even) worse_. But the sight of his head coming to nestle itself between her legs and that first flick of his tongue over her swollen clit proves just enough to empty her mind of all reason. To elicit a breathy outcry to the _gods_ themselves from lips already parted, soft though it was.

Regardless, it's all the fuel Nero needs to continue. His hands grasp firm upon her hips, holding her still as his tongue moves to swirl playful, indulgent circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, stopping now and then to kiss and suck at it, to dart the tip of his tongue across the very tip with just the right amount of pressure -

" _Ah_ -!"

\- Eliciting from the blunette a widespread shudder, and a gasping moan that escapes her lips no matter how she tries to stifle it. Already, it was difficult to concentrate on the flow of words spilling from Yda's mouth via Linkpearl, but Nero touching and tasting her this way made it even moreso. _And, speaking of her fellow Scion_ … the strangled sound of her pleasure does not escape the sensitive mic of the Linkpearl, in spite of Sera's vain attempts to muffle it. It elicits concern, to say the least, but all things considered the blunette is glad it's Yda that's called, and not Cid or Y'shtola, or _heavens forbid_ , Thancred, in this moment. For Serafina was never gifted in the art of the lie, and any one of the aforementioned three would have her figured out in a heartbeat if hard-pressed (or even less).

But Yda, she thinks - from _Yda_ , she might be saved of prying and suspicion. "Y - Yes, I'm fine! I just - I dropped something, and it - it startled me, is all -" So far, so good … although, she swears she can _feel_ Nero smirking into her as he stays his course, each swirl and lap of his tongue against her already-throbbing pussy causing her to to ache all the more for release. She swallows hard once again and squeezes her eyes shut, tries to focus on her fellow Scion's words while ignoring the sensation of his mouth upon her, the feeling of one hand sliding down from her hip to her thigh, moving inward toward her folds and the wetness that lay therein. The realization of what's to come next. "W - What? No, nothing's broken - Listen, Yda, I should go, I'm -"

But all the foresight in the world could not keep her from trembling as his fingers entered her once more, thighs tensing to steel herself and keep from collapsing from the sensation altogether. Their thrusts match his tongue by way of speed and intensity, each time curling just enough to hit her most sensitive spot at the end of each movement. The wave of pleasure that threatens to crash and wash over her grows at double the rate as a result, and the resulting plea to her comrade sounds almost desperate when she speaks:

"I'm just … so close to … _finishing_ -"

As she speaks, her free hand falls to the back of the Garlean's head, lithe fingers clutching at blond hair desperately as her breathing became more shallow, more rapid. A silent appeal to him not to stop, to keep going, to not simply take her to the brink but to push her _over_. And he obliges, of course.

She swears she's about to lose complete control, and utterly blow her cover in turn, when over the Linkpearl, she hears the magic words uttered - ' _Alright, then; get back to it! See you soon, Sera._ ' - followed by the familiar click of the line disconnecting. Yda's voice no longer floods her mind, forcing her focus to attempt to split to two different places. In place of it, there's naught but the sound of her impending climax: her heavy breaths and stuttered moans; the telltale squelch of her wetness with each well-timed thrust of Nero's fingers into her sopping core; the hungry lapping of his tongue as she grinds her pussy desperately into his open mouth and hand. It's overwhelming, dizzying - it's almost too much for her to take all at once. And to that end, the sounds that fall from her parted lips begin to rise in a crescendo of pleasure. The same way that build-up to her orgasm rose to its heights, a wave that had hit its peak and now threatened to crash. And crash it does.

"Nero - _Gods,_ Nero -!" Throwing her head back, her eyes squeeze shut once more as she calls out to him like a prayer. To utter his name is a feat in and of itself, leaving Sera in choked gasps and pleas as the wave crests, and then finally comes down to wash over her. It's all she manages before the fall, that sweet release that hits her all at once. And in the wake of her climax, all she can do is cry out in pleasure, her other hand joining that which already grasped the back of the man's head, pulling tight onto blond locks as she rides it out. Her walls tense and twitch around his fingers, earning a groan from the Garlean's mouth that he muffles against her pussy. By the time she's through, and the last throes of pleasure have passed her by, her legs are shaking beneath her weight, and she thinks to herself that perhaps she's _glad_ she'd ended up back-to-the-wall after all. Slowly, her fingers unfurl themselves from the hair upon Nero's head, and her hands fall away to either of her sides, limp with exhaustion - and she finds that she is gasping, chest heaving and mouth agape, a gentle flutter in her ribcage as she feels his fingers leave her and his mouth withdraw. " _Nero_. You … … -"

"Mm?" She doesn't need to see him to know the expression he wears. It's smug for certain, complacency alight in both eyes and grin. To open her eyes and tilt her head forward once more, she found, served only to confirm the obvious, having caught a glimpse of his features as he stood and straightened again his posture. "Do go on."

"You're …" A pause. A breath. The upwards curl of the corners of her lips, however minute (he'd notice, he always did). "… Impossible."

"Oh?" Comes Nero's response, amused. "An interesting choice of words, Scion. And here I thought I might have earned your favor, what with your _vocal_ enthusiasm -"

"Perhaps you have." Followed by another purse of her lips, feigning lack of found humor in his words … though it means little, especially at this point. Both of them know as such. And so Sera allows the act to falter momentarily in place of half-lidded eyes and a coquettish smile, one hand rising from her side to hook into the waistline of his bottoms, tugging at them slightly. Her gaze lowers in turn, from his lips to his chest, down to the crotch of his pants, the bulge in them very clearly straining. "… You needn't worry, though. That 'favor' you mentioned … … trust that I fully intend on earning the same."

A moment of silence. Then, the Warrior of Light turns her head upwards once more, and allows the Garlean to overtake her lips with his own, space again nonexistent between them.

Perhaps she was wrong, when she'd spoken to Yda - telling her she was 'finishing up'. _Perhaps she'd be a bit longer, after all._

**Author's Note:**

> Though I wrote this for self-indulgent purposes, I do want to say that I take fanfic requests! You can message me here if there's something you'd like to see me write, or reach out to me via Twitter (@housevestra)!


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